You know you're getting old when...

...you get excited about getting a new vacuum cleaner -- or grumpy when the old one breaks. I mean, all the things I could do with $300! Somebody stop the bleeding...October has been a record bank-account breaking month between the birthday party, the life-saving vet stay for Annie, and now the vacuum. I'm going to have to skip my pedicure this month! Torture. Thank goodness it's cooler and these scrappy toes are wrapped in socks most days.

So last night at the dinner table I mention to Dave that it's been over a week and I'd be embarassed to open my front door to people as the house desperately needs a vacuum. I mean, we have 5 people living here not to mention 2 pets, one of which is a big white fur ball who barfs on a regular basis. (No, I'm not talking about Dave...he's a black fur ball...and house-trained, for the most part.)

I was at the mall yesterday, but in no mood to shop for a vacuum cleaner. I knew no matter what I would have purchased would have been inadequate or wrong, so I knew it was a task better left for my husband.

Off to Sears he goes...alone. This is clearly a job for a man on a mission. I beg him not to spend too much, and while I want and need one, I don't get to wear it, so let's keep things in perspective. But to him, it's a machine. It makes noise. It has gadgets.

The part where you really know you're old: Trying to get motivated to vacuum the house because you KNOW you're going to break into an all-out sweat as this is exercise for this old lady! No soup cans required here, Liz. Just a big ole house to vacuum.

Calories burned? Hmmm...we'll see if I can get through it without snacking.